


Relationship advice from Balthazar Fake

by Alice_huhhuhhhu



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Balthazar (Supernatural) Lives, Balthazar Is So Done, Crack, Crazy, Cute, Dean Winchester Loves Castiel, Funny, Gabriel (Supernatural) Loves Candy, Gabriel Loves Sam Winchester, Humor, I wrote this instead of learning for an exam are you proud of me, Idiots in Love, Lucifer (Supernatural) in the Cage, M/M, Relationship Advice, Relationship(s), The Author Regrets Nothing, Titanic References, Valentine's Day, What Have I Done, ships, what am I doing with my free time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-30 07:21:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17824397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alice_huhhuhhhu/pseuds/Alice_huhhuhhhu
Summary: Balthazar, angel of the Lord, hides behind the name "Balthazar Fake" and works as an employee at a relationship advice call center where he gives a few familiar clients relationship advice. What could possibly go wrong?This crack fic is based on an inside joke my friend and I have. I came up with the plot shortly before I fell asleep on Valentine's Day. I still blame you, Shaleschnueffler, but thanks for the help with the details and ideas. I hope you like it.





	Relationship advice from Balthazar Fake

Balthazar stretched in his chair with a loud yawn, turning his head to look at the clock that was ticking way too slowly for his liking. His neck and upper back hurt, a burning feeling started to spread in his shoulders and all he wanted to do was leave- just get up, grab his stuff and _get the hell out of there_ , but he couldn’t.

It was his own fault. It was his decision to mingle with humanity for a short while in order to learn more about their lifestyle than he learned from that god-awful movie. It was his decision to hide his angelic powers and take on a fake name to apply for a job at a call center. A relationship advice call center, to be more precise. Yes, those things existed. Sadly.

It must have been fate that Balthazar got accepted -he never thought someone would take him in with that horrible resume- but here he was, in a worn-out chair behind a wooden desk, a rather outdated black telephone in front of him that seemed to intimidate him with its accusing aura of doom. Maybe it was fate’s revenge for him trying to kill her some time ago…

 

Okay, maybe he was overinterpreting stuff. But it had been his choice to take over his coworker’s shift for today, fully aware of the fateful date in his calendar that was marked with a red pen and the note “Valentine’s Day”. He should have known that this was a horrible idea. Still, the angel consented to the request and he felt nothing but regret.

Valentine’s Day. The perfect occasion for all the singles out there to overthink their strategies and notice it is time to ask someone for advice. Since Balthazar opened the door to his office, he had the annoying sound of constantly ringing telephones in his ears. It was a bit like angel radio, except for the fact that he couldn’t tune this out. No, he had to endure this until it was over.

There it was again, that pesky high-pitched sound, coming from the phone in front of him. Balthazar let out a sigh, he reminded himself of his duty and the slight hope of sounding professional instead of plain exhausted and picked up the call.

 

“Relationship advice call center, my name is Balthazar Fake, how may I help you?”

He could have sworn there was the sound of rustling paper and loud chewing at the other end, so it didn’t surprise the angel to hear a familiar voice speaking to him trough a mouth full of what he assumed was some kind of candy.

“Balthazar Fake? Are you serious? Hey French fuck, you should really call yourself something… you know, less obvious and more… fancy. Anyway, since it’s Valentine’s Day and everything, I actually called you for a reason.”

“Oh, and I thought you just missed my beautiful accent.”

There was a short moment of silence, Balthazar suspected Gabriel was quietly contemplating if he should make some inappropriate joke or not, and he prepared for the worst. However, he was surprised when he heard the unexpectedly serious voice of the archangel at the other end of the line.

“Do you, by any chance, know how to confess to a giant moose bookworm who’s constantly getting on your nerves and might possibly still hold a grudge against you for killing his beloved brother about a hundred times?”

Gabriel’s words sounded ironic and playful, but judging by his tone, he really meant it. He wasn’t asking as a client, more as a friend. Despite his job, Balthazar had to admit that he wasn’t the best at giving relationship advice at all.

“Go for the classics. Maybe take him out on a date, and by that, I don’t mean zapping him to some imaginary parallel world or TV land, then you can have a snack together -no candy!- and then you try to get him with one of the cheesy pick-up lines and some small talk.”

Gabriel was silent, it took him a minute to overthink what the other angel had suggested and therefore probably destroyed all his former plans by saying this date shouldn’t involve sweets and a meet and greet with Dr. Sexy. Finally, he spoke up again, sounding as joyful as he always did when he was fooling around.

“Got it! Thanks, Balthazar. And now excuse me, I have a moose to tame.”

With that, the archangel hung up. Balthazar smiled, leaning back and spinning in his chair, as the telephone rang again. He stopped the spinning, fighting for balance for a few seconds and picked it up while ignoring the slight nauseous feeling in his stomach. _Damn chair_.

 

“Relationship advice call center, my name is Balthazar Fake, how may I help you?”

It sounded a little forced, but whatever. He switched back into professional relationship advice center employee mode after another look at the clock, realizing that this would be a loooong day for him.

“Balthazar? What’s up with the weird codename? You sound like a douchebag.”

“Dean? Is that you?” Balthazar couldn’t say who of them was more surprised and embarrassed to hear a (yet another) familiar voice on the other end, since the angel never expected to get a Winchester on the line. Especially not the badass hunter with a weakness for everything that has to do with emotions.

“Erm. I was wondering, do you have any tips for someone who’s… not very good at conveying his feelings towards their feathery crush? Asking for a friend.”

_Oh yes, I’m sure you are_. The angel successfully tried to conceal his laughter before he decided on what to answer, well aware of the circumstances of said _friend_ Dean was asking for. Everyone could see that his trenchcoated brother was falling head over heels for him. Okay, everyone except for those two. He knew exactly what to say next and prayed to his dad that the older Winchester would _finally_ get the message.

“He loves you. So, man up and tell him already instead of staring at him like he’s a delicious slice of pie. It’s not that hard to say, is it?”

“You… you know what, forget about it. And don’t you dare tell anyone I called. Capiche?”

Dean hung up. And Balthazar rolled his eyes, carefully glancing at the clock for the third time. It was still way too early, and his mood dropped faster than the Titanic had sunken. At least the ocean had a bottom where that damn wrack could rest in peace, but his mood was lacking something called a lowest point. Just when he thought it couldn’t get worse, there was another call and another well-known client.

 

“Relationship advice call center, my name is Balthazar Fake, how may I help you?”

“Heyyyy, if it isn’t my favorite French brother. How are y’all up there? Enjoying Valentine’s Day? I have to say it isn’t very romantic down here, but maybe you could- “

“Lucifer. How do you know where I work? How did you get your hands on a phone? _How do you even have service in the cage?_ Whatever, would you just please leave me _the fuck_ alone?”

Lucifer barely managed to ask “What’s up with the weird name by the way” over what Balthazar assumed was Michael’s complaining in the background before he broke off the connection. This was the worst. He just wanted to go home already, but the day had one last surprise for him in store.

 

After working for what felt like hours and giving some half-serious advice to a few regular clients, he felt done. Exhausted, annoyed, sore and completely and utterly done. At this point, he was sure he wouldn’t even be surprised if Leonardo DiCaprio called and complained about some anonymous fan who writes the worst Titanic film criticism blog ever. Which was totally not him. Nope. Another call interrupted his thoughts.

“Relationship advice call center, my name is Balthazar Fake, how may I help you?”

“Really, you should get a different name.” It was Gabriel again. Who else would call a second time and annoy him when his work day was nearly over? Balthazar closed his eyes and waited for the mix of sass, irony and horrible jokes that would come at any moment now.

“It went great. Really, everything was fine. Until I got to the cheesy romantic talking part. Okay, maybe saying that I’d die for him was a stupid idea considering what happened in the past, but I didn’t expect him to kick me and ask if it hurt when I fell from heaven!”

“Gabe, you are a total dumbass” was what he was about to say, but he decided not to tease him about it. Instead, he attempted to sound comforting and not as amused as he felt on the inside while he tried to explain that they should both stop picking fights and behaving like an old couple. In the end, he could convince the archangel to at least try not to mess with Sam that often. They both said their goodbyes, however, the trickster couldn’t help but whisper a final “And _please_ , for heaven’s sake, change that weird last name”.

 

As soon as the call ended, Balthazar grabbed his belongings and stomped out of the office, angrily staring at the innocent clock on the wall. _If looks could kill, that thing would have melted._ He slammed the door behind him and hurried down the stairs until he finally stepped through the front door of the building. With a string of (partly French) curses and insults, he cleared his head, searched for the nearest trash can and disposed of his ID with the name “Balthazar Fake” written across it.

“…I quit.”


End file.
